There is no hierarchy of rights or justice

I have
been disappointed at the low-key response by African leaders in condemning Israel's war on
Gaza over the
past two weeks compared to the street protests
in countries across the continent. So far only one African government, Mauritania, has recalled
its ambassador from Israel. In the
case of Egypt, the Government
has been positively hostile towards demonstrators, who have protested in their
thousands. Egyptian bloggers
have been particularly strong in their condemnation of Israel and in
the criticisms of their own Government, with some calling for an all-out revolution
in the Middle East.

Some leaders
have spoken out. Desmond Tutu of South
Africa has not hidden his disgust at Israel's
actions, which he considers to be war crimes: 'In the
context of total aerial supremacy, in which one side in the conflict deploys
lethal aircraft against opponents with no means of defending themselves, the
bombardment bears all the hallmarks of war crimes.' In 2002, Tutu visited Palestine and said
that it reminded him of South Africa under
the Apartheid regime as he saw 'the humiliation of the Palestinians at
checkpoints and roadblocks, suffering like us when young white police officers
prevented us from moving about.'

I do find
it somewhat sickening to see Sudanese people amongst the protesters, given the 'crimes
against humanity' being committed by their own leaders. It would have been far
more meaningful if they had also protested against the genocide in Darfur. We
cannot be selective about injustices. Writing in Pambazuka News, Tajudeen Abdul
Raheem develops this idea in his article Saying no to the Israeli massacre, in which he refers to the global
protests taking place since the beginning of the war, and in particular the one
in London last
Saturday in which I also took part:

'This is
a massacre perpetrated by the mighty, merciless Israeli army, a force armed and
actively supported by the US and NATO,
with the supine collaboration of Arab leaders, including the so-called moderate
Palestinian leadership under the main Fatah organization from its Bantustan enclaves
in the West Bank… There were initial fears that
the cold would deter many from turning up for the march, but so deep is the
outrage of many that they poured out in their thousands in all the major cities
of Britain to call for an immediate ceasefire and end to the blockade.'

Tajudeen
goes on to explain that the importance of these and other demonstrations
against injustices is not necessarily that they will bring immediate change or
end the war. Rather they need to be seen for their cumulative impact:

'It is
not enough for us to just look on and say to ourselves that what is going on is
bad and simply change the channel. You can join the protest or organize one
wherever you may be, write letters to newspapers and make use of feedback
sessions in the media. You can also boycott Israeli goods like Jaffa oranges in
the shops. Even if our governments, much like their Arab counterparts, are too
compromised and cowardly to stand up to Israel, what
about you and me? There are many Africans who are confused about the
Israel-Palestine conflict, believing it to be purely a case of Islam against Judaism
or Arab against Jew. As a people who have known slavery, colonialism, and
apartheid, how can we be so complacent about the right of others to a life of
dignity and sovereignty over their own affairs?'

Tajudeen raises some important
issues here on the notion of 'rights' and 'justice'. How do we Africans view
the rights and oppressions of others? Even within our own communities 'human
rights' are selectively applied (LGBTI people are continually excluded and
vilified both by leaders and society at large). It disappoints me that every
time I write a post on my blog about the occupation of Palestine, I invariably
receive at least one response stating 'this is not our struggle' or 'these
people (Arabs) enslaved us' and so on, as if there is a hierarchy of rights and
justice. Are we so full of our own oppression that we cannot see that of others
and feel their pain?

'Africans
have come to believe they have the monopoly of suffering, and as a consequence
expect others to struggle on their behalf, without Africans showing the same
solidarity to others. For example, we expect African Americans to struggle on
our behalf but not we for them. We expect them to rally around our political
prisoners, yet Mumia Abu Jamal, who has been a political prisoner since 1981,
has more support in France
than in most African countries.'

We
in Africa cannot expect
others to work with us against oppressive governments such as those in Zimbabwe and
Central African Republic unless
we are ready to contribute towards internationalizing the movement.

About the author

Sokari Ekine is a Nigerian social justice activist and blogger. She writes an awardwinning blog, Black Looks,
which she started in 2004, writing on a range of topics such as LGBTI
Rights in Africa, gender issues, human rights, the Niger Delta, Haiti
and Land Rights. She is a IRP 2013 Fellow.

New Internationalist reports on issues of world poverty and inequality. We focus attention on the unjust relationship between the powerful and the powerless worldwide in the fight for global justice. More about our work